


What Matters Most

by natterbugg



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Civil War, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hopeful Ending, I haven't even seen the movie yet so, M/M, No Spoilers, One Shot, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Starting Over, Stucky - Freeform, no worries friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 21:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6723349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natterbugg/pseuds/natterbugg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically, my idea of how CA:CW should end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Matters Most

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seen the movie yet, so don't worry about spoilers! Any info in it is only from the trailers and a little knowledge of the CW comic books.
> 
> I saw some spoilers on Tumblr (my mistake), and I got rly upset over them, so I wrote this, and tbh I think it's a much better.
> 
> also, this is my first fic I've ever posted, so I'm totally open to suggestions and pointers! I'm an artist primarily, but I like to write one-shots to go along with some pieces, and I decided to start posting them so everyone else can better understand my art. :) here is the piece this fic was based off of: http://natterbugg.tumblr.com/post/143521108599/well-be-alright
> 
> Enjoy!

Steve wakes to the early morning sun warm on his face. Open eyes reveals the gentle sunrise illuminating the edges of Bucky’s sleeping form beside him, golden light reflecting off of a sharp jawline, a muscled thigh, the metal of his arm.   
Steve should be happy. This scene, this person in front of him, safe and warm and alive, is all he’s ever wanted. This is what keeps getting taken away from him, and it’s finally, finally, his to keep this time.

But the cost of it was a heavy one. SHIELD would not give up. They were ruthless. After giving Steve a very polished version of “get out of our way”, all agents were set to the task of finding and detaining The Winter Soldier. Steve, being Steve, tried to reason with them. There had to be a way to make everyone happy, he had thought. There's always a way. But that wasn’t an option. After about a thousand botched excuses from Steve, they found Bucky, the only place he would be; with Steve. They pinned Bucky down in front of him, handled him like some feral dog. The agents dragged him away and told Steve to find a hobby.   
They should’ve known what Bucky did; Steve Rogers never goes down without a fight. 

With Natasha torn between the people who gave her a purpose and a person she calls a friend, Steve turned to Sam for help. He helped, no questions asked, like he always does, and it wasn’t long before they had an impressive team of superhumans (and Clint) on the cause. They managed to release Bucky, but not without a handful of casualties. 

For once in his life, Steve didn’t care.

The escape resulted in a small civil war. Tony didn’t get it. All he saw was a machine that stole his parents when he was too young to understand. All SHIELD saw was an object to obtain.  
The fight was nasty. Everyone’s world was affected, if not destroyed. Friendships shattered, families burned, and Steve's entire life from the moment he returned from the ice was swept away. Nobody walked away unscathed. 

After a narrow escape that didn’t afford the luxury of goodbyes, Steve and Bucky left the country at night, buying tickets to whatever plane, bus, or train was going farthest.

Somehow they ended up in this place, wherever it is. All Steve knows is that it’s safe and it’s far and they won’t be found for a while. They’ve finally been able to rest the last few days. Finally been able to sleep in a bed and explore each other’s new scars, as well as old ones. The tangle of confused and scared and EMPTY is finally gone from Steve's stomach, the one that’s been growing there since the moment he made eye contact with new version of his first love. Hell, the one that’s been sitting inside him since those 6 seconds he couldn’t grab that love’s hand fast enough.

Unfortunately, the tangle is gone at the expense of a haunting Steve can’t quite shake. Images of his friend’s faces appear where blank walls should be. The shield he had to leave behind takes the place of anything remotely circular. The faces of innocents who were in the wrong place at the wrong time, always on the outskirts of his mind.

Bucky is helping Steve forgive himself, reminding him that this is the first selfish thing he’s done in his whole 90 years, and that he is allowed to want things and he is allowed to put those things above other people’s comfort. They’re both trying to move on. They keep moving, keep exploring. They hold hands when walking through a market place in a city who’s name Steve cannot pronounce. Bucky orders their food because they haven’t run into a language he isn’t fluent in as of yet.

And Bucky; Bucky is recovering. Sometimes he zones out for minutes at a time, lost in some memory from 1935. Other times he’ll wake up, gasping and drenched in sweat, from an unconsciousness filled with needles and blood and cold, cold, cold. He doesn’t sleep unless Steve is wrapped around him. Unless he is warm, sometimes uncomfortably so. More and more of who he was before all of this, before any of this, shows up everyday. But they both know he’s not that person from World War II anymore. And that’s okay, because neither is Steve. They are harder now, aged with time and pain, but the parts of them that love each other have not been altered. They are still the thing that matters the most to each other.

They spend their days and nights doing all of the things that were so far out of reach 70 years ago. They waltz in the halls of ornate churches and ancient temples. They look out at the unassuming world from the tops of mountains. They don’t hide their love for one another anymore, because they don’t have to. They laugh and swim in crystal pools and reminisce on older days over bottles of wine that have been waiting longer than they have.   
Mostly, Steve helps Bucky remember and Bucky helps Steve forget.   
Sex helps them both. So there is a lot of it. Steve has to admit, America feels very far away when Bucky’s lips are on his neck and their hips stutter in unison.

And it’s worth it. Steve knows it’s worth it. He has his entire world in his arms again, and it’s worth it. Living with the knowledge that he left everything that grew to matter to him behind; his cause, his friends, his country, his home, is almost too much.   
Almost. Because when Bucky groans and shuffles over to rest his head on Steve’s chest, everything else stops mattering. This is what he left everything for, and given the chance, he would do it all again. So he wraps an arm around his world and mumbles “good morning” into his tangled hair.   
This is how it was always going to be. From the moment they met, all those years ago, Steve and Bucky have only ever had each other. They played together, had nothing together, lived together, died together. It never mattered who was bothered by it. The only thing that really mattered was that they had each other. It only makes sense that they would live the rest of their lives the same way.


End file.
